


The Demon That Comes When You Call It's Name

by orphan_account



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Hate Sex, Other, PWP, Painplay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Wrestling, because these are things that happen, lmao is this hate i think so this is how it works right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-21 14:19:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6054730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Call me, Sansy." / Crack pairing that got way out of hand. Chara's aged up to a point where they can drink alcohol. DFAB Chara.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Demon That Comes When You Call It's Name

Sans was so happy to be overground, truly he was. He was proud of Grillby and his new bar. He was even happy to have a new home with his brother, but for a moment, everything fell away because of the odd lady at the bar.

She was all dolled up, from head to toe. Her hair was red and vibrant, just brushing her tan shoulders. Her dress was short and her heels looked very similar to hiking boots. That resonated as odd and out of place with the rest of her gentle looks until her head turned. Most of her features were just as soft as the rest of her, but her upturned nose and square jawline gave her a sharp edge, just like her boots defined her odd style. Her eyes were a bright red, and her perfect, powder pink lips seemed to be set in that eerie smile.

That smile was obviously for Sans for a moment, much to his confusion. She had one red eye trained on him, patient and knowing.

A bubbling anger started in the skeleton’s hollow chest. Who did this  _ thing _ think it was. As if on cue, she turned back to face the counter top, and the entire bar seemed to sigh in relief. Her presence was large and imposing despite her petiteness. Everyone half expected her to destroy the entire place with a single wave of her perfect hands.

One of those pointed, black nails tapped twice at the counter, pulling Grillby’s attention. He seemed to be the only person who was perfectly relaxed, as if having a vulnerability to her darkness. Her voice went unheard to Sans, as if she was trusting a dark piece of her to the fire elemental.

He nods stiffly as usual before pulling a bottle of whiskey from the shelf behind him. Two glasses are filled, one of them going to her.

Sans’ eyes were pinned to the other drink. Don’t come over here, don’t come over here…

It was inevitable that it was for him. The one booth closest to his moved to one a bit farther, as if he was diseased.

Grillby set the glass in front of him.

“This from the freaky lady at the counter, grillbz?”

The other monster’s near invisible eyes trained on him. A bit of sweat evaporated instantly from his surface, as if he’d made that same mistake. “... They’d insist you not call them a lady.”

That was a yes.

The bounce of their bare shoulders showed that they were listening, but how impossible could that be? They were so far away, and Sans was quiet in his whispers.

“Tell em not to send anymore drinks.”

Grillby didn’t answer, but turned on his heel to man his spot behind the bar. By the time he arrived, that person at the bar was already gathering their drink and their over the shoulder bag, their heavy boots making their steps sound closer to that of someone twice their size. Sans already knew what was coming, so he sighed, wiping away the buildup of sweat on his brow.

They slid into the booth smoothly, setting their glass in front of Sans’. They lean forward, and now that they were so close Sans could see clearly that this  _ thing _ didn’t have pupils.

It wasn’t human and it wasn’t a monster, so the real question that he wanted answered was  _ what was it _ ?

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

He didn’t realize he said that out loud. Well fuck.

Their voice hung in the air, a deep raspy edge to it as if they couldn’t raise their voice any more than a low drone. It had a distinctly feminine roundness, charisma bleeding from the words. It was disturbed and heavy.

Sans let the words stay hanging, settling for ignoring the form across from him. Maybe they would just get bored and go away. He knew its type and had seen it too many times before getting to the true ending. They wanted amusement and he wasn’t gonna just hand it over.

Their perfectly pointed nails tapped impatiently on the wooden table top. Their jaw flexed as if they were considering biting the other for his defiance. Instead they daintily sip their whiskey, taking off the edge of their ravenous anger.

Sans took a deep breath, watching them carefully. Their presence was smothering, like whatever infinite place they tore themselves from was encroaching upon the bar. The bar, for that matter, didn’t even seem to exist anymore. It was being swallowed up. It was almost too much.

“What do you want from me?”

Their smile widened, but their teeth stayed invisible to Sans. They set down their drink, not answering until their hand was back in their lap, making him wait.

“Can’t a  _ person _ get a little entertainment these days? Things just are so _ boring _ when you can’t find a decent toy to play with.”

The sweat that Sans wiped from his forehead built up again. Their whisper was nearly silent, as if meant only for the skeleton. It was so suggestive and the situation was too intimate. It made him feel sick. Too bad organs aren’t a thing skeletons had or he could  _ turn them inside out right onto this thing’s lap. _ That would be a great joke.

He took in a deep breath of the hot, humid air of the bar, calming his nerves. He’d never felt this much spite at once.

They stand suddenly, drinking all of their glass’ contents before letting her drink loudly hit the table top. They approach Sans and immediately he moves over. He didn’t want them any closer. He thought the world would disintegrate if he allowed them to get next to him.

They sit, legs crossed, getting comfortable with their legs nearly touching the monster’s. They look out to what Sans assumed was the rest of the bar, noting the position he took in intrigue.

“You sure did pick a good place to look at everyone. You can see the front door, the bar, all of the tables…” Their red eyes turned back to him, swimming with amusement. “You’re paranoid, aren’t you? Were you waiting on me to prove you right, I wonder?”

The strained noise that came from Sans’ throat couldn’t be helped. This was all just so uncomfortable. It was the sound of someone drowning on dry land.

They laugh at the noise, scooting in closer to Sans, carefully running a nail against his knee. A shiver ran up his spine. Nope, nope, nope.

He presses against the wall of the booth, feeling like he needed a shower. They made him feel slimy, like they were an ugly disease.

And yet, despite how he’d like to deny this tiny detail, his bones tingled at their touch. It made him feel like he specifically needed a cold shower. He was doubly grossed out.

“What’s wrong, Sansy? Scared?”

Their hand moves to touch him again, wanting to hear him struggle more, but the grab at their wrist caused them to jump, visibly shaken. Their red eyes met his now empty sockets, smile dropping. They were jerked forward, having to balance one hand on Sans’s thigh. They were practically laying on him and Sans would _never_ admit that it was on purpose.

“How do you know my name, you little monster?”

They seem frozen in place until a wide grin shows their pearly white teeth. Their teeth were arranged oddly, incisors curling outwards and all of their teeth rounded into their own permanent curves. They move closer to Sans, looking down at him, straddling his hip.

“Why,  _ Sansy _ . Who forgets the first person they kill?”

Sans reels back in horror, suddenly remembering blood on a golden palace wall. This thing was…?

“ _ Frisk _ ?”

Their grin quickly drops, a groan leaving them. They snatch back their hand, kneeling above the skeleton. They glower down at him, eyes burning into his bones. The feeling was familiar and brought forward images of blood on his bones. “For being a skeleton, you sure do know how to kill a _ boner _ . Saying someone else’s name is just rude.”

No, not Frisk. This was that thing that pretended to be Frisk so many times. Sans froze, his breathing stopping. Otherwise, he would hyperventilate.

“Aw, you do remember me.” They rebounded quickly from their displeasure, moving to sit right in Sans’ lap, back against the table. They felt so safe, obviously. “Remember that time when I beat you, finally, after a few deaths. Oh, and then did it all again just to spite you? And you called me a freak? Aren’t those just happy memories now?”

Sans grit his teeth together, practically biting down on his words as he spoke them. “I hate you.”

They barked out a laugh, throwing their head back. The bar snapped back into existence for only a moment only to react. Everything with a soul jumped before seeming to dive back into the void that followed this thing.

“What a strong word. I didn’t realize you felt like that about me, Sansy. Why, golly. You don’t even know my name.”

Sans snapped back, a hand shooting up to grip the all powerful thing’s neck. They let out a gasp, still smiling. “ _ You killed everything I had. _ ”

“My name is Chara.”

“ _ You killed Papyrus. _ ”

“And I come when I am called.”

“ _ You- _ ”

“And I allow this happy ending to happen.”

Sans’ hand tightens and Chara’s smile widens. Someone was testy. They put a hand on the skeleton’s wrist, not even trying to pull it away. They were allowing him to try to choke the life out of them, and yet they seemed perfectly fine.

“I’m letting you be happy. You should thank me for that. You should be thanking for even gracing you with my presence. I am kind of a big deal.”

They lean forward effortlessly despite Sans’ arm attempting to push them back. Their chest was pressed to his bones, their mouth near where his ear would be.

“If you behave, you’ll be able to thank me for more than that.”

He drops his hand, not knowing quite what to do with it. He places it on their thigh, feeling the soft flesh. Something dangerous like them shouldn’t be so yielding.

They nod in approval before removing themself from his lap, sliding out of the booth. They stand, stretch, and leave a few bills on the table for the drinks.

“Call me, Sansy.”

They lower their upwards reaching arms, walking out or the bar with a sway in their hips.

Sans didn’t move from his spot for what felt like hours, struck dumb. Suddenly the whiskey they bought was looking a lot more attractive.

* * *

Sans sighed, looking at the stripped bed in his room. All that was left of his ball of bed coverings was one clean sheet and one naked pillow. Looks like Papyrus came in and took his sheets. He didn’t touch his sock collection, thank god.

He sits on the bed, a hand running down his face. He looked into his hands, mind racing. He didn’t meet the living embodiment of evil. He didn’t.

It was easy to take off his jacket and throw it in a random corner. He felt too warm, sweat droplets falling between his vertebrae. He had their name, and that was the only thing that made them seem real. The skeleton’s mind seemed to think that if he forgot their name, they would stop existing.

He leans forward, hands on his face, eyes closed and a sigh leaving his teeth. In that same breath he says their name.

It was quiet, and if it weren’t for the arms snaking their way around his neck, he could have convinced himself that he didn’t say it.

“Why, golly Sansy. If I knew that you’d wanted to see me so soon, I would have just stuck around. Give me some warning next time.”

They seemed to be wearing a large green sweater as opposed to the dress they had on earlier.

“I hate you.”

Chara smiles, their hands wandering over the exposed bones of Sans’ collarbones. “I know. It’s just so easy to hate me.”

Sans was thankful, to some extent, for that drink they bought him. For one, he felt false bravery and motivation in his rib cage. On the other hand, he wouldn’t entertain his current thoughts without a glass of whiskey first.

He turns to look at them, almost having a heart attack, thinking for a moment that the demon was pantsless. A closer look revealed that, no, they were just wearing incredibly short shorts under their sweater. They innocently bat their eyes, though that look didn’t belong on their face.

They smile and lean forward, soft lips meeting teeth. It took only a second before Sans bit down on that lip, drawing blood and a gasp from Chara.

They pull back, their tongue swiping over the cut, a smile on their face. “Good, good. Now lick it better.”

Sans’ sneer brought Chara just a little more joy. This was a perfectly good way to get some entertainment, they thought as Sans pinned them to the bare bed. Even without that jacket he always wore, he was larger than the short demon. It should have been easy to keep them down, but it just burned him up knowing that they were letting him do this.

“You’re still as freakish as ever.”

They grin, their bottom row of teeth bloodied. It was almost too effortless for Sans to practically shove his tongue down the thing’s throat. They weren’t expecting that, and their quick scramble for the skeleton’s shoulders showed it. His blue, barely solid tongue brushed over the cut, their own pressing back against the gelatinous blueness. His hands claw at their sweater, roughly pushing up the garment. Their skin was so unnaturally even and smooth, like a blemish wouldn't dare appear on them.

He was going to fix that.

His bones claw down their stomach, pulling a hiss of pain from them. Their legs press together as a whine comes from their throat.

The burn of disgust in the back of Sans’ throat makes him drop his pelvis onto their legs, sitting on them to keep them in place. His tongue rams against the backs of his teeth. His phalanges undo their shorts by themselves, making him pause. He looks at Chara, their grin wide, eyes big and excited.

“... I wanted you to eat me out is all.”

Sans sits up, shaking his head in a moment of clarity. His hand holds his head, looking at the flustered, disheveled and panting form under him. He moves himself, sitting on the bed and leaning against the wall it was pushed against, trying to settle down his... everything.

“Use your words, you brat.”

His eyes slipped closed for a moment, and the sound of clothing hitting the floor made his eyes open. Right in front of him was a bare chest, just as tanned as the rest of Chara and at the same time leeched of saturation. His eye sockets went dark immediately and that involuntary, strained noise rattled Sans’ jaw.

They straddle his legs, hands settling on his shoulders. Their breasts were eye level with the skeleton, his jaw audibly rattling, louder and louder.

“You look nervous, Sansy. I’m here trying to be straightforward like you asked, and look at you! You’re shaken to the  _ bone  _ \- Ah!”

The yelp that came from them was high and light, a moan following the noise. Sans had bitten into the softness of their breast, knowing that the force would leave an impression in the flesh. His tongue is cool against their nipple, sending a shiver up their spine. It was slick, leaving a sheen behind as he dislodged his teeth.

They shove against his head, slamming his skull into the wall, laughing breathily. Sans holds his head, the room spinning as he finds himself on his back. He finds purchase on their arms throwing them to the ground, seeing their smile fall away, even as they pull him down by one of his ribs. The room shakes with their combined weight, doing so once more as he’s slammed down onto his back, Chara standing to put a foot on his still covered pelvis, their frown pulling a fight or flight reaction from Sans. He yanks their foot, sending them falling onto their ass with a shout. They both roll on the floor until Chara is kneeling over him, a knee on his pelvis, a hand on his vertebrae behind his ribs, and a thumb hooked around the edge of his eye socket. His hands find their thigh and their wrist. They both pant low, a mutual smile on both of their faces, though it would be easy to say that he wasn’t really smiling - this was just how he looked.

They release his spine, moving from side to side to pull off their shorts and underwear in one easy motion without unpinning the monster under them. “If you bite me, I’ll yank all of the teeth out of your skull.”

The void that creeped from their words made Sans aware that this threat wasn’t empty. His mouth opened and his tongue fell from his maw, bringing to Chara’s mind a slug. They smile, moving to press their bare entrance against his mouth, shivering as his blue, ecto-muscle ran between their folds perfectly. Not a bit of resistance or teeth or pain. They sigh, their weight leaning into their new toy. The feeling of hands pulling them in closer made them look down, seeing two white pin pricks looking up at them, flooding their face with a patchy flush. A moan tore from them as that nearly-liquid tongue circled their clit, easily sliding over their wetness and into their opening. The buckle over, hands moving to keep them up back arching over Sans’ head. Chara’s hips roll into the pleasure, legs twitching as bones pressed into them. Sensitivity wasn’t that surprising to them - It’s hard to hold back when one goes so long without being touched - but it was a shock to Sans. What kind of demon could be so easily won over with a bit of eye contact and some oral?

Chara’s shaking legs turn into a quivering wetness as they gently pull away from Sans’ mouth, only for him to pull them right back into place. No, they weren’t going anywhere until the came.

They followed the silent instruction to stay still, looking almost like a normal person with their cheeks glowing and their breaths coming raggedly and making their breasts rise and fall with every heaving breath.

“Sans,” They nearly whisper. “Sans, Sans!”

They muffle any more pathetic chanting in their arm, feeling their entire body lurch as they came. They shudder and ride his tongue, eyes unfocused and their rolling body slowing at the end. It was warm on both ends as juices coat Sans’ teeth.

They lift from his tongue, moving almost painfully slow. Sans gets up in enough time to find them still on their knees and in a bit of a daze, their hands running over their body as if trying to figure out what they just felt.

Sans yanks their leg from under them, shocking them out of their trance, pulling them under him. Their expression shook Sans. It was too sweet and endearing to be on that face, made of those eyes and that nose and that mouth.

“I hate you.”

Sans reeled back when they said that, even though he had said the same thing earlier. It sounded sincere and dripped like oil as they slurred out the words, almost like a love confession with the promise of death afterward. Did he sound like that when he said it?

He practically rips off his shorts, hearing them fall somewhere behind him. Their odd, spacy look focused, a more familiar grin gracing their face. “Someone’s excited. Slow down Sansy, I’m not going anywhere.”

Suddenly he was conflicted as he pumped his newly formed length to make sure it was stable. He didn’t know if he liked the honest, wrecked Chara more than the teasing, sleazy, usual Chara. As he pressed into them, their hands bringing his skull close to lick his teeth and his one slimy hand smearing blue ectoplasm across their stomach, he resolved to consider it later because they were tight, wet, and almost painfully hot.

“I know you’re a demon and all,” He growls through gritted teeth, said demon’s head knocking against the floor as they let it fall. “But do you really need to be hot as hell?”

Chara laughs in earnest, barely breathing. “Better start moving then. Wouldn’t want to burn you.”

He takes their advice, pulling out nearly all the way to slam back into them, forcing a gasp up and out of them, giving him enough time to lift them by the shoulder. He slams them back down and their head bounces. Their head spins and a moan follows another thrust after the pain, their walls fluttering around Sans’ girth.

“You’re a freak.”

“Does that still mean something?”

He doesn’t answer, resolving for shutting up and fucking the shit out of them. He begins a pace that couldn’t possibly be pleasurable; too hard, too fast, brutal and barbarous. Yet they seemed to melt even more than the sweating skeleton, nothing but moans leaving them. Some were girlish and over the top and others were low and deep, like they were coming from some other set of vocal cords that were fitting on a larger demonic force. They rocked in perfect harmony, like they were made for each other, fitting together just like this and filling  _ something _ like this. It was depraved and wrong and maybe that’s just what they liked about it.

Chara could feel themselves being stretched painfully and the head of Sans’ blunt cock hitting what they made the deepest part of themselves, the pain of it sending shock waves up their already sensitive depths and through their spine. Their legs looped around what they could of his pelvis and spine and it was nauseating and disorienting every time there was a combination of pain and debilitating pleasure. Their louder moans and their chanting of Sans’ name like it was a mantra signaled how close they were, and one last silent moan marked the end as they clenched,  _ hard,  _ around Sans. Their chokehold on his sensitive magic milked the orgasm right out of him, the usual rattling of bones being silenced by soft flesh.

Only when Chara finished their orgasm could Sans think of pulling out, looking at their newly dazed face. He looks at their leaking entrance, letting out a couple of amused huffs as they dribbled blue. He quickly pulls on his shorts before putting their sweater on what seemed like a hypnotized husk for the moment. Their eyes blinked clear for a couple moments so they could complain a little before being tossed into Sans’ bed with him following suit. It was way past his usual bedtime and no whining brat would stop him from sleeping.


End file.
